


14 days DA lovers

by Noire12



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 14daysdalovers, Dragon Age - Freeform, Elluin Lavellan - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Solas - Freeform, Solavellan, lavellan - Freeform, prompt, wildflowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noire12/pseuds/Noire12
Summary: She snorted, shaking her head, and slowly left the meadow, in no hurry to abandon its beauty. The wind caressed the colourful bouquet in her hands, and she smiled at it. She looked up to check if Solas watched her, but he slowly walked away, paying no attention to her.She buried her face in the bouquet, the pollen colouring the tip of her nose and her cheeks. Pure happiness took over her as she took a deep breath, the sweet, wild smell tickling her senses. It was the scent of love. The scent of his love.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen’Harel | Solas/Female Inquisitor, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), solavellan - Relationship
Comments: 29
Kudos: 45





	1. Wildflowers

**Author's Note:**

> The first prompt for 14daysdalovers on Tumblr.

Elluin shivered, goosebumps blooming on her skin as the chilly air of the morning found a way to sneak under her leather armour and kissed her skin. She encouraged the fire in front of her to burn brighter, her magic fueling the flames. 

The morning watch found her yawning as she waited for her companions to wake up and resume their trip back to Skyhold. No matter how exciting the Emerald Graves was, she missed the castle, its corridors and the bedroom it came with. And the double bed. Sleeping in a tent, on the cool, rocky ground, with twigs stabbing her back and neck might have been fun at twenty years old, but now, at thirty-six, she appreciated a good, fluffy bed.

She learned how to enjoy the privacy of her room provided, especially when she shared the tent with Solas. His presence, his body so close to her, kept her up at night, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. The thought of waking up too close to him brought butterflies in her belly.

She huffed, yanking a stick in the fire. The feelings for Solas baffled and thrilled her. She’d be a liar to say she didn’t love the subtle flirting games going on between them or his pleased look when she didn’t back out from their little verbal teasings. 

She found the words dance exhilarating, a welcome break from all the pious and polite words the rest of the people threw at her. The people who saw her as the Herald, as the Inquisitor; a being above them, a being who inspired fear and respect. And while Solas showed her nothing but respect, she noticed the thrilling spark of something else in his eyes when his gaze lingered on her face or when his fingers touched her skin, a second too long as he healed her wounds. As the days passed, she waited, convinced those subtle touches would turn into heated caressing. 

Until Wisdom died and Solas disappeared for two weeks. In those weeks, doubt gnawed at her mind. Did she imagine it? Did she invent those signs? Will he leave her with the bitter longing in her heart? Those fourteen days felt like an eternity. 

When he returned, she felt the sting of the tears in the corners of her eyes. As she ran towards him, her heart smashed against her ribs, pushing her to hurry, to abandon any restraint and press her lips against his. To admonish him for leaving her alone, for forgetting to visit her in the Fade at night. But Solas’ pained expression stopped her in her tracks. His suffering reflected on his face made her understand the deepness of his sadness. The games stopped, and a distant politeness fell between them.

And now, a week after his return, the loss still affected him, the sadness tugging at the corner of his eyes. He spoke rarely and only when absolutely necessary. He searched for solitude, and no matter how much kindness and understanding she offered, his polite but cold smile pushed her away. 

She had no idea what to do, and every time she opened her mouth to speak with him, she stumbled on her words. A nagging thought added conflict to that: jealousy. Jealousy on a spirit. She believed the connection between Solas and Wisdom might have been more than a simple friendship. 

The noise of the tent flap opening broke her trail of thoughts. Cassandra emerged from the canvas, yawning. She wore nothing but a linen gambeson; her armour still stashed carefully next to her pillow. She nodded in acknowledgement and headed towards the trees, flexing her fingers. 

Suddenly, she stopped and turned on her heels to look at Elluin. “Inquisitor, what are you doing up? This isn’t your watch but Solas',’” she turned her gaze to search for the elf, but she frowned as he was nowhere to be seen. “Where is Solas?”

Elluin shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” she shrieked, making her way back to Elluin. “Did you not meet with him when you woke up?”

“I did, I did. I told him he can go back to sleep since I was up, but he decided to go for a walk instead. He left an hour ago.”

“An hour ago?” Cassandra threw her hands in the air. “Anything could have happened to him in an hour. “

“Cass, Solas is a grown man,” she explained, rolling her eyes. “He travelled for years on his own. I’m sure he can take care of himself for an hour, in a forest.”

“I know, but sorrow can blind anyone. He has not been himself since he left Skyhold. I will go after him.”

“Wait, I’ll go after him,” she got up from the log she sat on. “You’re in your gambeson, and it will take you at least fifteen minutes to put your armour on. I can find him faster.”

“Are you certain about it, Inquisitor?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m in my armour already, and I can see and hear better in the forest than you. I’ll be fine,” she took a moment to stretch and yawned again. She had no idea how to find Solas, but the thought of a stroll in the forest, alone, brought a smile on her lips.

The twigs snapped under the pressure of her steps, the mix of rotten leaves and mud sticking on the soles of her shoes, hindering her movements, but she was in no hurry. Cassandra exaggerated in her worries, and she knew Solas was in no danger. He survived alone, as an elf and a mage, for more than forty years. She doubted this forest could offer any challenges to him.

The trees surrounded her, giants swaying under the gentle touch of the wind. She stared at them, muttering a small prayer for her ancestor buried under their roots. The soft whispering of the woods brought peace to her mind, all the nagging thoughts about the fate of the word forgotten for a few minutes. The music of a flowing river joined the symphony, its confident bubbling encouraging her to follow its path downstream. She walked next to it, skipping and jumping on the stones scattered on the river’s bank, allowing herself a few moments of playfulness. 

Soon, the river completed the trip, its waters feeding a small, almost oval lake. Rays of lights gleamed across the water, its surface mirroring the blue, cloudless sky. Wildflowers surrounded the lake, the diverse colours of their petals joining the green of the grass, their leaves resting under the warm touch of the sun. A sweet, floral smile tickled her nose, and she took a deep breath in, filling her lungs with their scent. Her muscles instantly relaxed, a wave of relief washing over her. 

She frowned. A crouched silhouette moved in the middle of the flower patch. Her fingers twitched, ready to release her fire magic at the smallest sight of violence. The figure rose from their position, and she sighed with relief as she recognised the person. Solas. She grinned at the image in front of her: his lean, tall figure, surrounded by multicoloured flowers, their leaves touching his legs. She made a mental note to capture the scene on paper. 

“Solas!” she shouted, her voice breaking the peace. “Over here!”

Solas jumped, turning on his heels to face her in a hurry,his face strained. He immediately relaxed at her sight. In his hand, he held a small flower bouquet, the rich colours of the wildflowers contrasting with his pale fingers. A little pang of jealousy crossed Elluin’s mind.

He made his way through the patch of flowers, his feet never stepping on them. A small smile tugged at his lips, his face relaxed and calm. Her heart skipped a beat, his beauty stopping her breath. She stared at him, hardly moving, unsure what to do next. 

“Inquisitor,” he greeted her as he eventually met her. “Did something happen?”

She shook her head to clear her mind. “No. The usual. Cassandra turned into the mother hen once more, and she sent me to search for you. She worried for your safety.” 

He chuckled. The melody of his laugh sent shudders down her spine. 

“Cassandra should not worry about my safety. I can take care of myself.”

Elluin rolled her eyes. “I told her that, but you know how she is.”

“Indeed.”

Silence shrouded them as they took in the beauty surrounding them. Elluin glanced at the flowers in his hands, curiosity nibbling at her mind. She knew he valued privacy, but she had to know who was the lucky soul to receive them. 

“I see you picked up some flowers. Who’s the lucky one?” she grinned in an attempt to ease the air between them and hoped Solas won’t notice her worry. 

He looked down at his hand, his eyebrows furrowed as if he forgot about the flowers’ existence. “Oh,” he acknowledged, raising the bouquet in front of his chest. “I gathered these for you.”

“For me?” she stuttered. “Really?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “You said you wished to make your own flower garden at Skyhold. If you cut their pods and the seed heads and let them dry on wax paper for a few weeks, you can plant them. I cannot guarantee you they will bloom, but you can give it a try.”

Elluin stared at him, a curious expression crossing her face. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, hesitating to find the right words to say. When she spoke again, amazement coloured her voice. “Solas, I talked about that once, with Blackwall, months ago. You didn’t even participate in the conversation. How did you remember it?”

He smiled. “Indeed, but I did overhear the conversation, and I have a good memory. When I stumbled upon this meadow, I imagined you would be happy to take a piece of its beauty back at Skyhold. I apologise if I made a mistake and—”

“No!” she cut him off quickly, stepping closer to him, closing the distance between them. “No, it’s not like that. I’m just surprised you remembered. I want that. I want to take them at Skyhold. Thank you,” she whispered her thanks, a faint blush spreading on her face. 

Her hands reached out to take the bouquet from his hands, their fingers brushing in the movement, but Solas hands still gripped the flower’s stems, his gaze fixed on her face. She looked back at him, forgetting how to breathe. 

“I am the one who should thank you. For your help and kindness.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Help?”

“Yes. You helped me when I needed it the most. When Wisdom was in danger.”

She sighed and looked down at her legs. “I don’t know how much I helped. I couldn’t save Wisdom. They died, and you suffered,” she laughed bitterly. “I wouldn’t call that helpful.”

His long finger gingerly touched her chin, lifting it to look in her eyes again. “Even if Wisdom died, your eagerness to help mattered more than you can imagine. I am in your debt.”

Her thumb softly stroked his knuckles. “Don’t be silly, Solas. I’m sure I’m not the only one who helped you when you need it.” 

His hand left her chin, and he shook his head. “You would be surprised. It has been so long since I could trust someone with my private matters.”

“I see,” she mumbled, unsure how to act next. This was the perfect time to let her heart confess how much he meant for her, but her legs trembled with fear. She gulped down the nod in her throat, but before she could say anything, Solas spoke again. 

“I also want to apologise to you, Inquisitor.”

His words snapped her out from her state. “Apologise? What for?”

“Varric told me how concerned you were for my safety. He said you hardly ate in those two weeks I have been away.”

Her gaze dropped to the flowers both of them held as embarrassment took over her mind. She cursed herself for allowing her feelings to become that obvious. But suddenly she frowned. No, she had every right to be worried.

“I thought you would never come back. I thought you abandoned us,” she whispered. “I thought you hated me for not saving Wisdom.”

“I thought about it,” he said, the words pushing Elluin to stare at him. It was his turn to look at the flowers they still held. “To never return to Skyhold. But then I realised you did everything you could to help, and I couldn’t abandon you right now,” he shifted his gaze back to her face. “I apologized for being away. I needed to find another reason to come back. Something to keep me steady on my feet.” 

His hands left the stems of the flowers to hover above hers, their skin barely touching. He swallowed hard and studied every line of her face as if to memorise them. 

“And?” she inquired, her voice quivering. “Did you find it?” 

Solas smiled and nodded. “I did.”

The answer brought every surrounding sound to a halt, the thudding of her heart against her chest the only noise she could hear. A faint dizziness took over her. Her instinct screamed to move, to say something, anything, but her body refused to listen. Seconds passed, but no words came to her. She saw Solas’ shoulders drop, the intense expression on his face slowly replaced with his usual, calm demeanour. His hands finally left hers and she understood the magic of the moment passed. He left her side, heading towards the forest. She slapped herself mentally for missing the perfect opportunity and the ideal location for a romantic confession. 

“We should get going, Inquisitor,” she heard Solas say. “Before the Seeker sends a searching party to find us.”

She snorted, shaking her head, and slowly left the meadow, in no hurry to abandon its beauty. The wind caressed the colourful bouquet in her hands, and she smiled at it. She looked up to check if Solas watched her, but he slowly walked away, paying no attention to her. 

She buried her face in the bouquet, the pollen colouring the tip of her nose and her cheeks. Pure happiness took over her as she took a deep breath, the sweet, wild smell tickling her senses. It was the scent of love. The scent of his love. 

  
  
  
  
  



	2. A tender caress.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second prompt for "14daysdalovers" on Tumblr.

The sky above her head stretched in a line of pale blue, a few fluffy clouds drifting aimlessly on its surface. Looking down from it, she saw the giant trees dancing under the touch of the wind, their swing pushing the leaves to murmur and whisper. Birds joined, singing their happy trill as if they had no care in the world. A cold, bubbly river ran through the centre of the meadow, fish jumping in and out, their scales shining under the sun's touch.

Elluin sat on the ground, the tall lush grass her cushion, and searched the surroundings. Everywhere she looked, she saw the sights of her childhood, as if no time has passed since she left. Even the sound of the singing crickets hidden in the grass and the smell of the flowers colouring the dominant green were the same as she recalled them. She ran her fingers through the grass, the morning dew kissing her skin, the familiar sensation bringing back memories long forgotten. She took a deep breath in, the fresh air tingling her nose. If it wasn't for the magic crackling in the air, she would have forgotten this wasn't real. 

Everything she saw and felt were the results of Solas' powers, of his skills to bend and shape the Fade as he desired. This was but just a dream, one he brought back from her memories to ward off the nightmares haunting her mind at night. She grew in this meadow, the trees and the rivers her silent companions. They watched her as she cried when she missed her parents; watched her as learned how to master magic and witnessed her first kiss. 

Her eyes drifted to her lover's face as he remained uncharacteristically quiet. He stood with his back against a tree, eyes closed, a lazy smile softening the sharp lines of his face. His chest slowly rose and fell as his breath went in and out, and she suspected he fell asleep. 

Solas opened his eyes as if he felt her gaze on his face. He cocked his head to the side, studying her. "Is something the matter, Vhenan?"

She shook her head and scooted closer to him. "No, the opposite. This is perfect. I can't believe you did all of this just for me."

He chuckled while his back left the tree. "You say it like you do not deserve it."

"Sincerely, I don't know if I do. This looks exactly like the meadow I used to love as a child," she continued, waving one hand around her. "Even that spot over there," she pointed to the opposite bank of the river where two tree branches coiled around each other forming a leafy arc. "That's where I stood with my Hahren every afternoon. That's where I learned everything we know about our legends. That's where I read all the books I love. It must have been an immense effort to bring back such a clear dream from my mind. I don't know if I deserve all the effort."

His smile fell, and a frown brought back his serious demeanour. Elluin bit her tongue in regret. 

"There is no one I would rather do this for," he uttered with a certitude that shattered any doubt about her worth. "The waking world demands you to ignore your happiness, but here you do not have to do that. I can bring you joy with my powers. It's the least I can do, after all the suffering you endured."

She looked down at the grass, folding and refolding her hands in front of her, not sure how to respond. Moments like this always tied her tongue in a knot, leaving her a bumbling mess. After all, no other lover shifted and twisted the Fade to mirror her dreams for her happiness.

The tips of his fingers gingerly patted her cheek, and she raised her head to look at him. 

"I will try to make you happy as long as I can. I cannot promise you tomorrow will allow me to do that, but now, I will use every skill I have, every knowledge I possess to accomplish that."

"But why," she inquired. "Why all of this? You said bending the Fade takes a lot of effort and it can leave you drained. It's a feat you rarely did in the past, and yet, you do it so often for me. Why risk yourself like this?"

For a heartbeat, no one said a word. His eyes slowly moved over her face and her breath shortened in anticipation of the answer.

"Because happiness suits you. And I want to make happy the most beautiful woman I ever met".

She giggled, her cheeks turning pink and looked at the tree behind him, to avoid his gaze. "You're too kind to me. I doubt I am the most beautiful woman you met. You know how they say, love turns people blind."

"It did not blind me, Vhenan", he murmured, his face just inches away from her. "Love made me see everything clearer. Made me realise how beautiful you are, how splendid your spirit and soul are," He cupped her cheek, his thumb caresingher jaw as he gazed down at her lips. She leaned into his touch with a whimper. His tender caress filled her heart with happiness. A happiness that stopped every single worry in her mind. In moments like this, the world mattered no more: only his fingers and the touch of his skin against hers. 

"Oh Solas," she finally said, a taint of amusement hidden in her voice. "You are so kind to me, but the Fade makes you so cheesy and romantic."

Her words were met with raised eyebrows and a hearty laugh. His hands left her face to pull her into a tight hug. 

"Do you dislike it?" he asked, his words coming out muffled as he buried his face into her hair.

"No, not at all. I love cheesy, romantic stuff but don't tell that to anyone."

"Your secret is safe with me, Vhenan", he promised, his breath sending pleasant shivers down her spine.

She returned the hug, her arms wrapping around his torso and looked ahead at the trees. They stood proud, summoned to a realm they did not know, silently witnessed their love.


	3. You drive me crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt for "14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers"

A pungent smell of healing potions and bitter tinctures shrouded the barely lit room. There, Elluin sat on a chair, her back on the wooden backrest, her eyes examining the surroundings. A bed with linen sheets stood next to the left wall, a bed she spent many nights in. She moved her gaze from it to the white, tall, long table, its whole surface occupied by numerous bottles, bandages and instruments she didn't understand. Healing magic was a curious craft, one she never fully comprehended.

A sneeze suddenly tickled her nose, but she forced herself to hold it in, a high-pitched noise ringing in her ears. The shake of the sneeze would have reopened her barely closed wounds, a risk she wouldn't take.

Her left hand reached for her abdomen, delicately patting and probing for any blood staining the silky wrappings. Her fingers met a warm, sticky liquid, and she sighed, disappointed with her body. The short walk from her horse to the Skyhold's healing quarters ruined Dorian's handy work.

An annoyed grimace crossed her face. The healers always scolded her for jumping in front of the danger, huffing and puffing with disappointment. But, the only healer who could make her feel like a misbehaving child was Solas. And right now, she crossed her fingers, hoping anyone but him would come to heal her. She assumed he slept, as it was the middle of the night. Surely no one would dare to wake him up and announce him the Inquisitor and her party are back.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Solas entered the room, closing the door with a loud thud. He said nothing and crossed the room to the worktable, firmly avoiding her gaze. The black circles under his eyes and his tensed jaw made her sigh profoundly.

 _'This won't go peacefully'_ she thought, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Elluin watched him as his hands opened and closed three bottles, pouring their content on a few bandages, mixing them with impressive confidence. His fingers sparked, healing magic sneaking in the silky bandages.

"Solas," Elluin warned him.

An annoyed huff left his nose.

"No healing magic for me, please," she patiently explained once again.

"As you wish", he grumbled through gritted teeth.

He turned to face her, one hand holding the bandages and one clenching the mysterious bottles. He stared at her wound, a dangerous frown knitting his eyebrows.

"Sit on the bed," he instructed her.

She slowly moved from the chair, hissing as a pang of pain quickly crossed her wound.

"Take off your shirt," he continued as she eventually reached the bed.

"Oh, without kissing me first?" she said, looking up at him and grinning. "And here I was, thinking you're a gentleman."

Her cheeky grin melted immediately as he fixed her with a cold stare, the purple flecks in his eyes sparkling dangerously.

She quickly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her pale shoulders, sprinkled with freckles that travelled down on her neck and chest. There, they disappear under her breast-band only to continue towards her abdomen where they disappear again, hidden by the hem of her pants.

She whimpered as she tried to slide the shirt down her arms, pain crossing her body again. "Can you help me, please? I don't think I can do it," she asked him, eyes closed to hide the anguish residing there.

Quickly, Solas abandoned the healing materials on the bed next to her, and carefully slipped her shirt down her arms. Goosebumps sprang up all over her bare arms, as his fingers accidentally brushed her skin. She glanced up to meet his eyes, only to find a discrete blush dusting his cheeks. Her smirk returned, please to notice the effect she had on him.

"I will take off the wrappings now. Try not to move."

She nodded and peered up at the ceiling of the room, allowing him to take care of her in silence. She winced and hissed a few times, the dried up blood peeling off from her skin. The cold air soon reached her wounds, the painful sensation pushing her to bury her nails into the wooden frame of the bed.

"It will hurt less if you lie down in bed. Can you do that by yourself?" he asked, voice thick with concern.

She shook her head. "No, I think I might need help for that too."

The coldness in his eyes disappeared altogether, only to be replaced with worry as he helped her get into the bed. After a few more painful seconds, relief washed over her, the pain subduing.

While Solas left her side to burn the wrappings with his magic, she dared to take a glance at the wound, as the bleeding stopped. Her armour and the enchantment Dorian put on her took most of the damage, but the Venatori's sword still found a way to leave a mark on her flesh. She could clearly see a deep cut, a few centimetres long, stretching from the right side of her abdomen and stopping at her bellybutton. It was deep enough to cause impressive bleeding, but not enough to end her life. She closed her eyes again and made a mental note to properly thank Dorian for his assistance.

Solas' hands touching her skin made her aware of his return. She opened her eyes to look at him, wondering if his cold demeanour melted away. The frown was still there, but she suspected it was the result of his deep concentration. She challenged his skill with her insistent refusal to use any magic to heal, thus forcing him to utilize the standard, non-magical means to help her. She closed her eyes again, the fatigue finally catching up with her, and she dozed off in less than three minutes.

A loud huff woke her up again. She looked up at Solas with curiosity, raising an eyebrow. "If you have something to say, I'll happily listen."

"I'm finished," he said, ignoring her words, the coldness returning in his voice.

"Already? No wrapping?"

"No, not yet," he replied, gathering his stuff to put them back on the table, his back at her. "I will have to change the bandages again, in two hours. I do hope you will stay put for a few hours, without feeling the insistent need to jump in front of a sword."

 _`Oh, here we go again.`_ she thought, half amused and half worried. She patiently waited for him to continue, already knowing where this discussion would lead.

A few bottles clicked against each other as he sorted them, throwing away the empty ones. "I have the suspicion you do not understand an important fact, and I will be quite happy to enlighten you about it if you do not mind it." he continued.

"Not at all, go on, enlighten me," she articulated, wondering if he caught the cheekiness in her words.

"In the last year, I have been the witness of your choices and decisions, and all of them had a logic, a well-thought move behind them. I have fallen in love with that intelligence. And yet, I am confused. Are you unable to understand your importance at this moment, Inquisitor?"

_`Oh no, I'm in trouble now. He just called me Inquisitor in private.`_

As if hearing her thought, he turned to look at her, his lips pursed into a thin line, his nostrils flaring. He reminded her of a dragon ready to attack his prey. A wide, mischievous grin grew on her lips.

"Oh, my current importance?" she replied, feigning ignorance.

"Yes. Do you not understand what it means to be the bearer of the magic on your left hand?" he continued, almost growling.

She hummed questionably, raising her left hand to look at the Mark. The green light twisted and slithered against her palm.

"The magic on your hand," he continued, moving closer to her. He reached her bed, his tall silhouette hovering above her. "That Mark, Inquisitor, is the key to the survival of this world. To our survival. And I have the impression you do not understand the importance of that fact."

"Oh, is that so?" she replied and slowly rose up from the bed, careful not to open her wound again. Solas moved back a few steps to stare at her face. "What makes you believe I am so ignorant?" she looked up at him, the grin still on her lips.

"This is the fifth time you do this. You used your body as a shield to protect someone who did not need your protection. Varric told me how you protected Blackwall with your body when a Venatori attacked him. Why? He has an armour! He trained all his life to withstand moments like that. You are a mage, you should run away from a sword, not jump in front of it!" he spoke, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed them into fists.

"Did Varric tell you Blackwall had his back turned at the Venatori and didn't see the attack coming?" Elluin calmly asked.

"No, he did not. And even so, Blackwall can endure such an attack. You cannot!"

"Well, it seemed I endured it quite well," she shrugged, pointing at her wound. "Dorian helped me, and you finished the work. I see no hard done."

"No harm is done?" he asked incredulously. "You could have died. What if Dorian's charm failed? What if the Venatori had a poisoned weapon? What would you have done then?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure you would have saved me."

"You cannot do that. You have to stop risking your life. Stop jumping in front of the attacks, Inquisitor!"

"And what, let others die in front of my eyes?" she asked.

"Yes. If that means staying alive and protecting the Mark on your hand, then yes!"

"Hm, so I should try to stay alive just to protect the Mark. My life is important only because of that?" she asked, closing the distance between them.

"No, that is not what I said. I would--- "he stopped, his eyes widened with surprise, as Elluin lips smacked against his. She kissed him, no, she devoured him, her tongue urgently searching for an opening to slip into his mouth. With a frustrated moan, he allowed it. One hand grabbed her butt to pull her closer to him, the other slipped into her hair, gently tugging at her locks.

After a few heated minutes, the imperative need to breathe made Solas break the kiss. "Why did you do that?" he asked Elluin, who licked her lips.

"To stop you from sounding like an ass."

He opened his mouth a few times to speak but closed it back. He sighed and spoke again. "I apologize. You are right, I went too far," he closed his eyes and bent down to rest his forehead against hers. "You are important to me, more than you can imagine. The thought of you being hurt beyond healing petrifies me. I cannot bring you back if you die. The Mark on your hand is essential, but your safety holds more importance to me.

"Oh, I know that. And I am aware of everything you told me just now," she nonchalantly said.

He quickly straightened his back to look into her eyes. "Then why did you…."

"Well," she started, biting her lower lip to contain her smile. "I think you're hot when you get angry. But since you rarely get angry, I took advantage of this situation. The way your eyes darken when you're pissed off is quite delicious. And I enjoy teasing you."

"Oh, for…" he groaned, hiding his face behind his hands, a crimson blush covering his cheeks to continue up to the pointy tips of his ears. "You drive me crazy."

She laughed, holding a hand on her belly, in an attempt to protect her wound. "Yes, I know that. But that's exactly why you love me, right?"

"Yes," he acknowledged, dropping his hands in defeat. But you truly need to stop jumping in front of swords, Vhenan. If you die, my soul will die with you."

"Fine, I will try to stop doing that," she replied, sitting back on the bed, wincing.

He blinked in confusion. "All I have to do is say I will be hurt and you will stop doing dangerous things?"

"Yes. Much easier than being a smartass with me, huh?"

"You truly are confusing sometimes, Vhenan."

She laughed again. "Will you stay with me tonight? I doubt I can climb all those stairs to my room without undoing your handy work."

"I will, Vhenan."

He joined her on the bed, pulling her in his arms and kissing her hair. Elluin nestled on his chest, breathing in his scent. A thought quickly crossed her mind, breaking the sweet moment for a second: What would she sacrifice to keep him alive? Would she jump in front of certain death to keep him alive?

_'Yes'_


	4. Candle Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For #14DALovers on Tumblr

At night, silence fell over Skyhold, the darkness’ arrival encouraging its residents to retreat in their private, warm quarters for a well-deserved sleep. In those hours, only the patrolling soldiers’ footsteps broke the silence, their armour clinking at every step. And, from time to time, the Inquisitor’s soft gait joined them.

When sleep refused to come, Elluin would leave the warmth of her bed, to roam through the corridors of her castle. Sometimes she would stop at the library and read until her eyes protested. Other times, with her sketching tools in her satchel, she would study the lines of the paintings adorning the walls to search for inspiration. And tonight, with the pouch softly hitting her thigh at every step, she walked the halls once again, her mind in dire need of an artistic revelation.

Her steps led her to the Great Hall. There, the Andrastian statues hovered above her, as if judging and prodding her soul in silence. Elluin gave them a long stare and sighed, turning her back on them. It reminded her of the heavy responsibility resting on her shoulders.

She headed towards the doors, with the hope the courtyard would offer happier images when light coming from Solas’ rotunda caught her attention. She frowned as she watched the small flame flickering in the darkness, wondering why Solas would still be awake at this hour.

Abandoning the thoughts of going outside, she slowly entered the room, head cocked to the side, studying the silhouette hunched over the desk, next to the small, glimmering candle. Solas’ cheek rested against his folded arms, an opened book under them. His breath came out in soft huffs through his partially opened lips, a small trail of drool staining the yellow pages of the tome.

A chuckle left her lips, reverberating through the rotunda. It came out too loud in the silence of the night, and she slapped her hands over her mouth, scared it might wake Solas, but he didn’t stir from his position.

With a relieved sigh, she scanned the room in search of another chair to sit on. Quickly spotting one, she brought it next to Solas, careful not to disturb him. She sat on it, her pouch resting on the back of the chair, and studied him. With her head in her hands and elbows on the desk, she silently watched her lover, drinking in his beautiful features, in an attempt to memorize every line of his figure. The candle’s faint light danced on his cheeks, painting his pale skin in warm hues of orange and yellow.

She noticed how the sharp lines of his face softened when he slept, the permanent melancholy written on his features replaced with serenity and calm. He looked younger, happier. A faint touch of jealousy crossed her mind, for the Fade calmed him more than she ever could.

Her eyes first stopped at the chocolate brown freckles scattered on his nose and his cheeks. With a giggle, she discovered one stood precisely on the tip of his nose and barely contained herself not to kiss it.

The flame flickered again, highlighting the contours of his firm, long nose. She learned how to read a few of his emotions only by paying attention to it: he wrinkled it in confusion, flared his nostrils in annoyance, or pinched its bridge in amusement.

Under it, his rosy pink lips stood parted, his warm exhale tickling her skin. When those lips kissed her, the world stopped in its tracks. She surrendered to them again and again, the passion he always managed to arouse in her sending her mind into a sensual state of intoxication.

The image of her lover blurred as her eyelids drooped. She drowsed, the hypnotic dance of the candlelight lulling her to sleep. Her breath slowed, matching the rhythm of Solas’ soft respiration, her elbows slipping on the table under the weight of her head. The Fade tugged at her mind, promising to show her their ever-changing paths.

With a sharp inhale, she snapped opened her eyes, realization shaking the sleep from her mind. This was it! The inspiration she looked for all night, under the form of her lover sleeping. Slowly, with care not to wake Solas, she grabbed her drawing tools from the satchel; the charcoal staining the skin of her fingers.

Under the candlelight and helped by Elvhen sight, she drew him, the lines of his face coming to life on the white pages of her sketchbook. With every movement of her nimble fingers, her mind drowned into a river of thoughts, bringing to surface her memories of Solas: their first meeting, their first kiss, the nights spent sleeping in his embrace.

The serene image of her sleeping lover bounded her to the paper, pushing her to draw faster, the lines blending and mixing under the ecstasy of creation, her mind and hands working with perfect coordination.

Her breath turned laborious, as a mountain climber gasping for air and, after a few more minutes lost in the joy of creation, she stopped, the drawing complete. The candlelight’s soft shadows danced on the page as if caressing her work. She sighed deeply, a desperate tiredness setting in, the process of giving purpose to the rough lines leaving her mind and soul drained. She closed the sketchbook, surrendering to the dire need to sleep.

Abandoning the charcoal on the desk and using her now closed sketchbook as a pillow, she followed her lover’s example and fell asleep with her head on her arms, allowing the Fade to embrace her. As Solas felt the tug of her magic in the Fade and invited her to join him, the small candle burned away, a silent guardian of their sleep.

The morning found them confused and groggy, their backs hurting in protest for sleeping outside their beds, the candle’s wax drippings the witnesses of her artistic ecstasy.

  
  



	5. Blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt for 14DALovers on Tumblr.

Heavy, dark clouds gathered above Val Royeaux, threatening to release the cold rain over the streets, to flood every nook and cranny. Without warning, their burden poured over the people who enjoyed their walks around the luxurious streets. What started as a sunny autumn afternoon transformed into a cold, wet day. The downpour and the joining wind ruined the lovers' romantic walks, forcefully waking them up from their love-induced dizziness.

In a few seconds, markets filled with people emptied as the rain came down rapidly, transforming into a cold curtain, the smell of wet dust rising in the air. Women wearing sparkling and expensive dresses hurried to find shelter, their tiny multi-coloured shoes useless against the flooding waters. Soon, the streets transformed into small streams, the sewers unable to contain it all.

The open terraces slowly became waiting stations, as people gathered under the tiny roofs, finding temporary shelter against the unexpected turn of events. Among the tensioned gents and giggling ladies stood Elluin, annoyed by the lack of respect for personal space. A young, half-drunk man nonchalantly used her shoulder to steady his movements, winning a long, deadly stare from her. With a low growl, she left the safety of the coffee shop, to lie against the outside wall, hoping the small, extended roof will be enough to keep the water out of her hair.

She stared ahead, cursing her luck. Of course, it had to rain precisely on the day she decided to come back, after ten years of diligently avoiding setting foot in this town. She returned at the Diplomat's insistence. At first, when the woman informed her they have to come here to sign commercial contracts with the merchants, she refused, but Josephine advised her to let the traders see her face, especially after Haven's fall, to combat the rumours of her death and ease their fears. She accepted, dreading the meetings. But, to her surprise and joy, after a few minutes, the merchants grew bored with the Inquisitor, their interest grabbed by the offers laid in front of them. At that moment, Elluin slipped past her and her companions, to walk the streets of Val Royeaux again.

The stroll brought back memories long forgotten, the sights and the smells reminding her of a younger Elluin, one who ran around the city's avenues, ignoring their beauty and elegance, in a hurry to deliver the packages her adoptive father entrusted her with. Back then, the numerous faces and accents of the city fascinated her. She spent her free hours studying the people, learning how to read their emotions and moods only by observing their body language. Now, the busy streets, with everyone bumping and pushing her from every direction, took the air out of her lungs.

When the thunder rumbled in the sky, she decided to make her way back to the merchant's base. When the lightning electrified the clouds, her instincts beckoned her to find shelter. As she barely reached the terrace, the rain came down, making her feel as if every single inhabitant of Val Royeaux decided to retreat under the same roof as her and shove their perfumed selves into her soul.

And now, she stood under the small extended rooftop, her short-sleeved shirt and linen pants doing nothing to stop the cold from pricking her skin. She swore under her breath as the rain reached her toes through her sandals.

The wait reminded her why she despised the rain's touch on her skin, the icy kisses of the water drops, sending her body into a frenetic fight against the cold. A shiver shook her body, her teeth chattering with a dull sound. She whimpered, wishing she learned how to cast a barrier to protect her from the downpour; instead, she had to wait for the skies to finish pouring their anger on her. The thought of a walk through the rain sent another powerful shiver through her body, the hair on her arms standing up in indignation.

Suddenly, a pang of pain crossed her left leg, starting from her big toe, moving up towards her knee and stopping at the back of her thigh. There, the pain pressed on her nerves, forcing her to bite down on her lower lip to supper a groan. This affliction tortured her almost every day since Haven's fall and her trip through the mountain's cold paths. The wounds inflicted on her by those violent events slowly healed, leaving scars on her skin, but one made her life harder: a sword cut that reached the bones of her leg. No matter how careful and thorough Solas has been with the healing, the pain came back to remind her of her vulnerability. And when the weather turned cold, the sharp pain intensified.

She closed her eyes and took in a few deep breaths, flexing her fingers while trying to remember the calming techniques Solas advised her to use when her body suffered.

"What terrible weather, mademoiselle!" a man suddenly addressed her, forcing her to open her eyes and look at him.

A blond Orlesian joined her, his back against the wall to protect his expensive-looking clothes from the rain's touch. The bright colours of his attire stood out in contrast with the grey hues of the day. Under his tastefully decorated mask, deep blue eyes shone with delight. Elluin watched him, perplexed, unsure if he addressed her.

"Yes, it's been pouring for a half an hour already," she found herself replying. "I hope it will stop soon, my toes are turning blue."

"I suspect it will continue for at least thirty more minutes," he explained, his melodious voice grabbing Elluin's attention. "Autumn in Val Royeaux can be quite wet. I hope you did not plan for sightseeing today." He smiled at her, his perfect, white teeth, offering her a hint about his social status.

She sighed, cursing her memory for forgetting that. Three more drops reached the tips of her toes, and she shivered again. Gods, she hated rain so much.

"Are you in our exquisite town for the first time?"

"No, I've seen it a few times," she answered, wondering why an Orlesian bothered to talk with an elf. She suspected the wait for the rain to pass might have bored him. Truth be told, the half-hour-long wait bored her too.

"Oh, is that so?" he inquired, genuine curiosity colouring his voice.

"Yes. I lived here for a few years with my father. He owned a bookstore, close to the University of Orlais."

A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips, the memories of the jealousy nestled in her heart as she watched the students leaving the University pulling at the strings of her heart. Back then, she would have given anything to join them.

"Did he?" My memory must be deceiving me, for I do not remember any book shop there."

"I closed it ten years ago after my father died."

"In the Blight?"

She gave the man a short nod, hoping he won't continue interrogating her. The loss of her adoptive father still haunted her dreams, even after ten years.

Silence fell over them, and Elluin thanked the gods the Orlesian man understood her tone. She had no desire to share her private life with a stranger.

"While we are waiting, shall we warm ourselves with a drink?" he said, breaking the silence and startling her. "They serve the most delicious Sun Blonde in here, imported from Tevinter."

Elluin blinked with disbelief at the man, amusement and confusion blending in her mind. Last time she checked, no one dared to even speak with elves, at least invite one to a drink in a busy cafe. The sly smile on the man's lips made her frown. Was he aware of her identity?

"Lethallan?" a voice reached her ears, making her heart skip a beat.

She spun on her heels to face the owner of that voice, thanking the gods for sending Solas at the perfect moment to interrupt the awkward invitation.

Solas stood outside, his tall, lean body unbothered by the rain, his clothes and face dry. A soft, white halo buzzed around his body, the magical barrier keeping the rain at a distance.

"Solas!" she exclaimed." What are you doing here?"

"I came to get you."

"Get me?" she frowned. "Did something happen? Does Josephine need me?"

He shook his head, nonchalantly. "No, our Diplomat is doing wonderful, much better than any of us can do. I came after you because of the rain."

"The rain?" she asked, knitting her eyebrows in confusion.

"Indeed. If I remember correctly, you told us you hate the rain and," a small smile appeared on his lips "your hair smells like a stinky wolf when wet. Since you do not possess the ability to create a protective barrier, I have been searching for you to offer my help against the rain."

Elluin watched him, baffled, various emotions knotting in her throat. "Did you search for me, not knowing where I am exactly? In Val Royeaux? In this immense town?"

"I did. But I found you faster than I anticipated. It took me only fifteen minutes."

"You walked in the rain for fifteen minutes, searching for me in a place you don't know," she repeated, dumbfounded, her breath shortened. "Solas, I--- that's so-- "

"Extremely romantic," the Orlesian man shouted, scaring Elluin who completely forgot about his presence. His hand reached for her waist, playfully pulling her closer to him, a bright smile adorning his face. "In all my years of courting, I have never seen such determination," he let go of her to move closer to Solas.

The elf watched the human with a raised eyebrow, a mild amusement reflecting in his eyes. The Orlesian circled Solas, carefully studying his body and posture. Then, he stared into Solas' stormy grey eyes, stroking his chin and nodding, as if understanding a marvellous secret.

"Yes, yes, I can see it in his eyes. He knows how to pleasure a woman," he turned to face her and gave her a dramatic wink. "This one is a keeper, my lady Herald."

Her eyes widened as she heard the man's words, a blush blooming against her freckled skin, starting from her neck, up to her cheeks, reaching even her lips, to travel all the way up to the pointy tips of her ears. A pleasant chill ran up to her back, but she felt considerably warmer than a few moments ago. She waved her hands in the air as if to clear the air.

"What? No, we're not….Solas is my companion!" the Orelsian snickered at the last word. "Not like that! Of for...Solas is just my friend, that's all. Friend!"

She looked at Solas and discovered a blush discreetly dusted his cheeks, and for a second, she hoped he felt the same rush at the words uttered by the other man.

"That is how all the relationships start, my dear," the man continued to tease her and Elluin felt the blush reaching her forehead and scalp. A few more seconds and her face would catch fire.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Solas intervened. "Thank you for your fascinating insight, Messere, but the Herald is needed in another place. Let us get going, Lavellan."

Solas reached out for her, extending his arm towards her, palm up, and for a second, she thought he wished to hold her hand. Then, she realised he waited to cast the barrier on her. Her fingertips reached for his, the cold touch of his skin soothing and calming the maddening rhythm of her heart. He whispered a few words, and the barrier shrouded her, instantly warming her. She instantly missed his touch when he retreated his hand. 

"It was a delight to speak with you," the Orlesian man waved at them as they left the cafe, the sly smile never leaving her lips. "I offer you all the best wishes, Herald."

They walked in the rain, the barrier keeping her dry, a comfortable silence settling between them. She looked up at Solas, delighted to see the blush reached the back of his neck.

"Are you well, Inquisitor?" he softly asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"How is your leg?"

"My leg?" she asked back, unsure what he meant.

"Yes. Does it hurt?"

"Oh! Yes, it does, but not as bad as it did a few moments ago. The barrier is helping me by keeping away the cold and the rain."

"I see. I am happy to hear it."

She frowned, looking down at the ground, the raindrops bubbling as she walked. Was this the real reason why he searched for her? Did he fear the pain would take over her again? The thought made her breath hitch.

"Who was that man?" he spoke again after a few minutes of total silence.

"I have no idea. He joined me when I was waiting for the rain to pass. Did you notice he called me 'Herald'?

"Yes," he paused. "You should be careful. People will not shy away from any means to feel the taste of power. Even if it means charming their way to it," he added, the vein on his temple pulsing nervously.

Elluin glanced at him in amazement, the faint note of irritation in his voice surprising her. "Do you think he tried to charm his way into my heart? Did the man make you jealous, Solas?" she spoke before her mind had any chance to catch up with the meaning of her words.

He chuckled. "I worry about your safety, as everyone does. After all, you hold the key to our salvation in your hand."

"Ah, of course," she commented, barely containing a cheeky smile. Somehow, the blush spreading towards his ears contradicted his words.

She grinned. For a reason, at this moment, even the infuriating rain filled her heart with unspoken joy.


	6. Midnight Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For 14DALovers on Tumblr.

Before joining the Inquisition, midnight rarely found Solas wide awake, staring at the ceiling of his room, thoughts racing through his mind and refusing to bend down to his will. In his long life, he succeeded in becoming the master of his thoughts and feelings, able to switch and navigate through them as effortlessly as a seamstress spun her threads. He walked through life, taking pride in his concentration techniques, his indomitable focus not once defeated. Until he met the Inquisitor.

Her mind numbing smirk and cheerful laughter silently found their way into his mind, nestling there and slowly eroding through the barriers set to keep any distraction at bay. Her curiosity and kind nature planted the seed of acceptance in his heart, acceptance that maybe, maybe this Tranquil like world wasn't a world out of his nightmares. 

Slowly, she pushed him to become curious about her life, her thoughts and her mind. There, he found a feeling he had never hoped of meeting again since Mythal's death: love. A gentle, patient love. One that accepted him as he was, without questioning and without prodding his mind to reach his deepest secrets.

And now, midnight found him contemplating those facts, turning and tossing in his humble bed, the sheets wrapping around his ankles. He could not comprehend why she willingly offered her heart to him. Her behaviour forced him to lay awake at night, rummaging on his thoughts, every calming technique he knew unable to stop his mind from thinking about her. For the first time in hundreds of years, someone succeeded in distracting him from walking the ever-changing paths of the Fade. 

He turned on his side to stare at the door, punching his pillow to fluff it, as if that was the reason for his wandering mind. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose, in an attempt to focus. Instantly the memory of their last heated kiss came to his mind, and he groaned as heat travelled down towards his pelvis. He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve her love or her acceptance. He should turned his back on her, but the thought of losing her, the idea of another one tasting her lips and curling their fingers brought a heaviness in his stomach. 

A faint knock on the door brought him back to the present, and he opened his eyes, unsure if he indeed heard it. He waited for a voice to follow it and call for him, but no sounds reached his ears after almost a minute. He closed his eyes again, ready to accept the Fade's embrace, when another knock, followed by the sound of shuffling feet interrupted him again. 

This time, confident he heard someone knocking at his door, he rose from the bed, grabbing the robe resting on the back of the chair, to cover his bare torso, wrapping the sash around his abdomen. 

When he opened the door, no one stood in front of it, but he spotted a petite silhouette turning around the corner. He followed it, his footsteps quiet. Soon, the red locks bouncing on the woman's shoulders gave away the silhouette's identity.

"Vhenan?"

"Solas!" she gasped, spinning on her heels to face him. "You're up!"

He hurried his pace to erase the distance between them, the smile on his face creating little wrinkles around his eyes and grooves in his cheeks. "Yes, I am. But why are you awake at this hour? Nightmares?" he slipped a hand around her waist to pull her close and kissed her head. Heat radiated through his chest as she softly giggled at his touch. 

"No, couldn't sleep, so I decided to walk around for a while." 

He hummed, cocking an eyebrow at her. He knew his love roamed the halls of the castle at night, but something in her cheeky smile made him suspicious of that answer "Is that so? And where are you heading?"

"Well," she started, placing one hand on his chest, raising her chin to look at his face. "Do you know Josephine will meet with a few Orlesian nobles in the morning? The type of people who keep their noses crinkled like they smell shit everywhere?"

"Yes," he patiently answered, tilting his head to the side. He took a step back, his hands living her body.

"And she asked Marin to bake sweets for them. But, the last time he did that, the Orlesians refused to eat it."

"Oh, is that so?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he told me the next day, when I went to grab some food from the kitchen. He ranted about how the Orlesians can't appreciate the skills of a Ferelden baker. After that, he mopped around for days, doubting his skills." 

"Too bad. His sweets are delicious." 

"Exactly. And I'm sure tomorrow they will refuse to eat Marin's sweets again, and he'll end up upset for another week. I have a plan to stop that." 

"A plan?" he repeated, leaning forward to examine her face. She had excellent plans at day, but at night, her ideas transformed into various shenanigans, like stealing food from the kitchen and having a late dinner in the courtyard, under the ancient oak tree. The cooks of Skyhold learned how to hide the food they cooked for the next day before the Inquisitor's nose caught a whiff of it and devoured it at night. 

"Yes. I'm going to eat everything he baked for them."

Solas caught a glimpse of pride shining in her eyes as she announced her plan. He bit down on his lip to contain a laugh. "What? Why? How would that help the poor man?"

"When he finds out that the Inquisitor snuck out at night to eat his sweets, he will be annoyed but also happy because the word will spread. And everyone will know how I, the most important person in this hold, ate his food like a glutton," a knowing grin grew on her face, a grin that was too infectious to fight.

In moments like this, when she uttered her plans with unshakable confidence, her shoulders back and chin raised high, he realised why every single soul in the Inquisition followed her without doubting her. Right now, if she decreed she planned to move the mountains, he would believe her instantly. But the idea of making a man feel better by devouring his food brought a smile on his face and reminded him how strange she could sometimes be.

"Oh, the brave Inquisitor, always sacrificing herself for the wellbeing of her subjects." he jested, offering her a bemused smile.

"But of course! C'mon, let's go, we still have a few hours until the cook's apprentice will wake up to heat the ovens."

She walked away from him a few meters, but she stopped as Solas didn't follow her. 

"Are you coming?" she asked, holding out her hand for him to take it.

"Is that the reason why you knocked at my door?" 

"Yes, I want to share them with you. I like to eat, but I doubt I'll be able to eat the sweets made for four people." 

"Vhenan, you know I prefer not to eat at night."

She huffed, rolling her eyes at him. "A late dinner won't kill you," she muttered, shaking her head. "Oh, c'mon Solas, it's going to be fun. Take my hand and join me in this quest of keeping sadness away from my dear subjects!" 

With her hand outstretched for him to grab it, and a serious frown knitting her eyebrows, Solas couldn't say no to her. He took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers to walk by her side on their way to the kitchen. 

The hallways were empty, their soft steps resounding in the silence. The majority of the people inhabiting Skyhold slept soundly, a few snores and grumbles reaching Solas' ears. From time to time, he could hear giggles coming from some rooms, and he hurried his step, eager to respect the privacy of those behind the doors.

The wall sconces held large touches to illuminate their way, and, in combination with their Elvhen sight, they could clearly see the path ahead of them. The flames cast long shadows on the floors, and sometimes, their light touched Elluin's face, colouring her pale, freckled kissed skin a soft orange. He found himself staring at her as they walked, his mouth drying and his throat growing thick. An impervious need to touch her, to push her against the wall and kiss her until she moaned with pleasure took over him, clouding his mind. He took a deep breath to steady himself, annoyed she broke his indomitable focus without actually doing anything. He fixed his gaze on the floor, counting backwards from one hundred to calm himself, refusing to take another look at her. 

After a few more minutes of walking in silence, they reached the kitchen, one of the three kitchens in Skyhold. The smell of cinnamon and yeast tickled his nose as Elluin slowly opened the door, carefully not to announce their presence. He followed her, closing the door behind him with a low thud. 

Inside, the three, tall working tables stood spotless, with no trace of flour or dough to stain their surface. The measuring cups were lined up on the tabletop, small soldiers waiting for orders. He could see the pans, plates and brushes through the cupboards display, their doors locked. He frowned, staring at the small locks, wondering why the baker decided to lock his tools so diligently. 

A clay oven with a thick iron door, large enough for a person to climb inside, stood in a corner along the wall. A long flue reached outside through the wall, specially built by the baker to avoid any fumes escaping in the room. Solas admired the man's ingenuity and his ability to keep everyone safe without the usage of magic. He spent a few fascinating hours speaking with him, learning more about the art of creating functionally clay ovens. 

"Well, this is weird," Elluin commented, scratching her cheek. "I can't see any tray with sweets." 

He snorted. "I believe the Master Baker hid his creations from you. The man learned his lesson." 

She rolled up her sleeves, revealing her toned arms. "Like that's going to stop me."

She approached one of the locked cabinets and grabbed a lockpick from her pocket, jamming it into the lock, twisting it a few times. "Let's see if Varric's lock-picking lessons will help me."

As Elluin struggled with the lock, he studied the room, one finger gently tapping his lips, his eyes analysing the potential hiding spots. He realised a man as bright as Marin would know better than to hide his food in locked cupboards. No, that was a trick, an ingenious method to keep the intruder busy until one of the kitchen workers heard the noise and came to stop them. It had to be somewhere in plain sight, a location no one would think about.

"The oven," he muttered, snapping his fingers. "Elluin," he spoke out, a faint trace of excitement in his voice. "The oven, he hid them in the oven. That door is closed to hide the tray from our view." 

"The oven?" she made her way towards the oven, narrowing her eyes. "Why would he hide it there? There's ash everywhere!" 

"Good question. Let us see."

The iron door made no sound as he pulled it opened, a testament of the cook's care. A faint magical barrier buzzed around the brass tray inside it, protecting the brownies from any ash or unburned charcoal. 

"Magic!" she laughed, slapping the back of her thigh. " I can't believe this. He asked a mage to cast a barrier on his brownies." 

"Indeed." He gave her a satisfied smile and crossed his arms, content he uncovered the cook's plans. 

Elluin licked her lips as she waved her hands to cancel the spell. She reached for the tray and gulped down with gluttony, her mouth watering at the chocolate covering the brownies. She grabbed one, the tray dangerously balanced in her left hand, and bit it. A moan escaped her lips as the chocolate poured from inside it. Solas eyed her, the sound leaving her mouth causing his fingers to twitch as if pushing him to touch her. 

"Vhenan," he intervened, taking the tray from her and setting it on the table. "How do you plan to eat twelve pieces of chocolate filled cake without getting sick?"

"That's why I asked you to come here with me, I need your help." she gulped down the food, hitting her chest with her fist as it refused to go down. "Those bastards don't deserve all this chocolate. It's been years since I tasted it, not gonna let it go to waste," she bit down on another, humming with pleasure and licking her fingers. "Take one, you're going to love it." 

He gingerly took a piece from the trail, admiring the perfectly spread layer of chocolate, the soft texture reminding him of satin. He smelled it, the hint of vanilla tempting him to take a bite. The chocolate melted in his mouth, wrapping his tongue in a thick layer of pure pleasure. He closed his eyes, and a sigh of satisfaction escaped his throat. 

"Delicious, isn't it?" Elluin remarked, smirking at him. "I knew you'd love it." 

He opened his eyes and offered her a small smile. "You were right."

She winked at him and grabbed another piece, shoving half of it in her mouth. He laughed and shook his head at her, worried for the integrity of her jaw. He watched as she devoured three more brownies, baffled by her ability to swallow the food barely chewed. 

A feeling of weightlessness cloaked his soul as she beamed with happiness, her cheeks rosy with delight. Her joy was contagious, and he smiled at her, grateful she chose to spend this moment with him. She picked him over the hundreds of people around her, over the men and women who craved for her love. She offered her heart and joy to him, a man who hid the truth, a man who had no right to receive this pure, untainted happiness. His shoulders dropped, and he averted his eyes from her smile. 

She came closer to him, her fingers reaching for his chin, gently encouraging him to face her again. "You're doing that again," she whispered, her breath tickling his skin. "Getting lost inside your head. Don't. Stay here with me." 

His gaze still avoided her face. "I apologise. My thoughts distracted me from the present."

"Is that so?" she murmured." I know the perfect way to keep you here."

Before he had a chance to ask more about it, Elluin grabbed the collar of his robe, pulling him down towards her to meet her chocolate cover lips. His lips instantly parted, as her tongue darted out to lick them, eager to explore his mouth. His muscles relaxed, hands resting lazily on her butt. She was right, he thought as his fingers curled into her hair, gently tugging it. When she kissed him, nothing mattered anymore, just the taste of her lips and the faint scent of lily of the valley coming from her hair. 

Her hand moved to the nape of his neck, slipping under his robe. The touch of her skin against his sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine, and he moaned, raw and insatiable lust replacing any thought. He pushed her against the table, and her knees gave out, her butt hitting the tabletop. She wrapped her legs and hands around him, as if afraid he will pull away. 

He wanted her. Right here and right now. He wanted to taste her skin, to follow the path of her freckles with his lips, from the top of her forehead to her toes. To make her sing as his tongue played with her folds, to finally taste her. He wished for nothing more than his nighttime fantasies to transform into reality. And right now, he couldn't care less they were in a kitchen, where anyone could find them. 

A low growl left his throat as a part of his mind screamed at him, yelled at him to stop this foolishness, to remember his real purpose, his identity. He had no right to taste her body when he gave her only half-truths. He was wrong to take her fully when he hid parts of him. She deserved more than this, more than a man who was too afraid to speak the truth. 

With a draining effort, he broke the kiss, gently pushing her away from him. She whimpered as his body left hers and she opened her eyes, arousal and confusion blending in her gaze. 

He shook her head when her hands reached for him again. "No. This is not right." 

Before Elluin could answer, the door opened with a loud bang, and a woman entered the room, waving a cooking paddle and shouting at them. "How many times do I have to kick you out, you thieves, this isn't the place for…." she stopped in her tracks, eyes widening with shock as she noticed the two of them.

"Your Grace! And you!" she frowned at Solas, confused by his presence. He could see it on her face how the pieces clicked together in her mind, her eyebrows shooting up. "I'm sorry Herald, I had no idea you two--," she stammered, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "I have to warm the oven, but I'll come later," she left in a hurry, barely giving them another glance. 

Solas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, his hopes for keeping the matters of their relationship private, shattered. 

"Well, this was bound to happen sooner or later," Elluin nonchalantly explained, getting off from the table and reaching for another brownie. "Until morning, every single person in Skyhold will think the Inquisitor had sex with the weird elf in the kitchen."

"Venan, I," he started, but she interrupted him with a wave of his hand. 

"Don't apologise. You told me months ago you aren't ready and now you weren't ready yet. I get it," she shrugged, shoving the cake in her mouth, slowly chewing it. 

Solas stared at his toes, cursing his mind for not stopping him faster. 

"But I did enjoy our intense make-out session," she giggled and winked at him as he raised his head to look at her. 

"C'mon, we still have a few of those. Let's be fast before that lady comes back and finds us here again. "

He watched her, eyes widen, once again awestruck by her kindness. Why? Why did she accept his explanations so easily? He had no idea, but he knew one thing: this fantastic, mysterious, infuriating woman would be his undoing. And he gladly accepted it because her love tasted like chocolate and brownies.


	7. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last prompt for 14DALovers on Tumblr.

The soft sound of charcoal scraping on the paper lulled Solas into a deep state of concentration, the monotonous music of the movement relaxing him as his mind diligently absorbed the knowledge hidden in the pages of Lady Gihni's book.

The nimble fingers guiding the charcoal on paper belonged to Elluin, who kept him company tonight. She sat on the floor, cross-legged, hunched above her sketchbook precariously balanced on her knees. She adamantly refused Solas' suggestion to join him in bed, claiming sitting on the floor helped her concentrate. He let her be, grateful they could share a few hours together, alone, with no unwelcome guest or dignitary to require the Inquisitor's attention.

While the hours passed, sleep made his eyes heavy, the Fade buzzing at the back of his mind, but he ignored its call, eager to spend more time with her, even if midnight found them still awake. At night, she could be his, and they could be just two lovers enjoying each other's presence, with no titles to separate them. At day, he had no right to ask for her company, as she belonged to her duty but, as the sun went down, he craved her presence and treasured every moment spent with her.

A sudden, long sigh coming from Elluin startled him, and he rapidly blinked to bring his attention back to the present moment. He closed the book and abandoned it on the bed, his attention shifting to her.

"Is something bothering you, Vhenan?" he inquired, a curious expression crossing his face, and he moved to glance at her.

A frown pulled hard at the corners of her mouth as she squeezed the charcoal between her fingers. She sighed again and rubbed her chin thoughtfully, staining her skin with the black powder. "I'm trying to sketch Dorian, but his face looks weird. I don't know what's wrong."

The bed creaked when he left it to join Elluin on the cold floor, his shoulder brushing against hers, the warmth of her body urging him to close the distance between them. His hand slipped around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

A half-finished drawing of Dorian took form on the paper, his features brought to life by the rich lines. He stood at a desk, a frown of concentration knitting his eyebrows as he studied a large tome. Solas took a minute to scrutinise his face, his eyes patiently analysing the lines on her creation.

"I believe his jawline is too prominent," he concluded, one of his fingers hovering above the lines of Dorian's face." The line of his jaw is softer."

"What?" she frowned at him. "Dorian has a strong jawline."

"Yes, but not as sharp as you sketched it. I believe that jawline is more suited for me."

"For you?" she stared at him for a few seconds and trailed a finger down the side of his face, tracing his jaw. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, a shiver of pleasure coursing down his spine at the touch. "You're right. I've been studying the beautiful lines of your face for too long, and my mind blended them with Dorian's. Tomorrow I'll sneak into the library when he's not paying attention and—why are you smirking like that?"

  
He could barely contain a self-satisfied smirk from spreading across his lips. His hand left her back, and he turned to face her, tucking his legs under him, his knees touching her outer thigh." You think the lines of my face are beautiful?"

  
She shot him an incredulous look, cocking an eyebrow. "Of course. Why are you so surprised? I'm sure I'm not the only one who told you that."

He chuckled at her words, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "It has been a while since anyone praised my beauty."

She gave him a lopsided grin and changed her position to imitate his. Her sketchbook opened on the floor between them. "Really? When was the last time?"

"When I was young."

Memories of times long gone shuffled unexpectedly through his mind, but he gently pushed them away, back to that corner of his memory where he hid his secrets. He forced himself to stay anchored in the present, to lavish in the comfort and the safety her presence brought to him. To fully enjoy the sensation, he had not felt for hundreds of years.

She leaned forward, her gaze never leaving his as her fingertips drew circles on his left knee. Her fingers were so warm, and the caress was so gentle that his skin prickled at the contact. "When you were 'bold and cocky'?"

He grinned at her, hoping she didn't notice how much that simple touch tantalised him. "Yes."

She hummed and studied his face for a long moment, a curious gleam in her eyes. "That must have been quite a sight."

To his surprise, silence fell between them as she turned her attention back to the sketchbook. He swallowed hard, wishing she continued caressing him.

He watched her as she ripped the page with the failed drawing from her sketchbook and crumpled it into a ball to set it ablaze with her magic. A trail of smoke rose from it, and he followed its sinuous journey through the air, his thoughts pulling him away from the present, the same ideas that came into his mind when he laid on his bed, half asleep and wondering.

Wondering how it would have been if they met thousands of years ago when Elvhenan still stood proud? Would she love him? Would she join his rebellion? He knew it was a foolish thought, but he wished they could have met back then and not now, not in this world he could not understand. Here, he could only show a faint shadow of his passion, of his love. In Arlathan, he would have done anything to make her happy; he would have given himself entirely to her. If only his plan succeeded. He closed his eyes to hide the emotions residing there, afraid she might read them and question him.

"Do you think we'd get along if we met when we were young?" she finally spoke, forcing him to ignore his thoughts once again, surprised she has been thinking about the same matter.

He opened his eyes again and stared ahead at the wall behind her, contemplating the idea. "Yes. But I do believe our strong personalities would clash a few times. As it happened when we first met."

She nodded in agreement, a solemn expression on her face. "Yes, two young, stubborn elves butting heads. I guess we'd end up bickering about everything," her charcoal danced again on the paper, her fingers leading it to draw a few bold, seemingly random lines. "It took us a bit to get along after we met, didn't it?"

"Indeed"

He looked at her work, and a faint smile grew again on his lips as he realised she was drawing him. This time his face looked younger, with no wrinkles or laugh lines to mark the passage of time.

She stopped suddenly, her gaze shifting from her drawing to his face and stopping at the ceiling. She studied it, her fingers twirling the charcoal piece, and he understood she had another question for him. One that might surprise or annoy him.

"What is it? You may ask."

She still eyed a point above his head, intentionally avoiding his gaze, spiking his curiosity. "I would've loved to draw you back then. Do you think the younger you would've let me?

"Yes."

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and this time she allowed him to look into her eyes. "Even nude?"

"I," he began, ready to give a negative answer. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss of words but sighed, defeated. As much as he wanted to deny that, he knew his younger self too well. "Yes."

She laughed, slapping her thigh. "Really? You were that different?"

He nodded." I was. It would have been impossible to refuse a request from a beautiful woman like yourself. My younger self would not resist you."

"Resist me? Now I'm curious about how it would go," she purred, her eyes falling to his lips.

"You would get your drawing," he paused and slowly licked his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. "Eventually."

Undistilled desire poured through him at the thought of spending a night together in Arlathan, and he swallowed hard, his throat drying at the mental image. A strong wish to erase all the distance between them nagged him, his fingers twitching in anticipation, but he denied himself that joy. No matter how much he wanted her, he had no right to ask for more than a few heated kisses from her. Not when parts of him were still hidden from her.

He searched her face for any hidden signs of desire, but he couldn't see any. Instead, she wore a pensive expression, her unfocused gaze locked on the piece of charcoal resting on her opened palm. He knew that expression as she wore it every time uncertainty hung over her.

He shuffled closer, her warm breath tickling his skin. He tucked a wayward strand of her chin-length hair behind her ear and chuckled when the curl stubbornly escaped. Slowly, his hand slid down the side of her face in a warm caress, his fingers finally cupping her chin and lifting it until their eyes met.

"Even then," he whispered with a gentleness that surprised him. "I would have loved you. As I do now," slowly, he leant forward, his lips touching hers in a soft caress. She answered, lightly tasting him.

She broke the kiss, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. She rubbed the back of her neck, looking down at the floor. "I... thank you, Solas."

He attentively watched her, curious if today will be the day when she will utter those three words, but the hesitance in her gestures made him realise it won't happen. He had no desire to pressure her into confessing her love for him, her gestures enough for him to understand how much she cared, but curiosity nagged him. Curiosity and confusion at why, a woman as powerful as she was, found it hard to say it. She jumped in front of the danger with no second thoughts and challenged anyone who dared to badmouth her, but she became uncharacteristically quiet when he confessed his love for her. He knew she had other lovers before him, and yet love left her speechless. Or it was just his love? Another mystery her soul held, one he was eager to understand.

"I should go," she suddenly said, slipping the charcoal into the pocket of her trousers and closing her sketchbook. "I'm sure your spirit friends miss you."

He got up at the same time she did, but instead of letting her go, as he always did, he reached for her hand, barely touching her fingers.

"Stay with me tonight."

She blinked a few times at him, her hand squeezing his fingers. "Are you sure? Last time I did that, you left in a hurry."

The first night they spent together sleeping in the same bed almost brought his nighttime fantasies to reality, and, with a heart-shattering effort, he had to abruptly put an end to the moment, leaving her confused and unsatisfied. Since then, they haven't shared a bed anymore

"I am."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "We're going to sleep in the same bed, right?"

"Yes."

"Really?" she asked in surprise, eyeing the bed.

"Yes, Vhenan. But if you mind it, you can refuse me," he let go of her, allowing her to leave if she wished it.

She waved the sketchbook in the air, rolling her eyes at him. "I don't mind it at all, Solas. But I know you enjoy your loneliness.

He reached for her hand and planted a soft kiss on the centre of her palm before speaking again. "I do. But I enjoy your presence much more."

"All right, I'll stay," she confirmed, giggling at the light touch of his lips. "I need to get my nightwear from my room."

"No need, I can lend you one of my sleeping tunics."

He made his way towards the small closet sitting in the opposite corner of his room and opened it, searching for one of the sleeping tunics Josephine ordered for him. He found a cotton one he never wore and handed it to her. She accepted it, grinning at him.

"Aren't you always so kind?"

She set down her sketchbook on a chair and reached for her blouse to take it off. Instantly he turned his back on her. She snorted at his reaction, but he felt no shame in it. Offering her intimacy was the least he could do.

"How do I look?" she asked after a minute, her shirt and pants neatly folded resting on the chair, above her sketchbook.

He turned around to face her, and his heart thumped as his eyes followed the lines of her body. Her shoulders were bare, the sleeves of the tunic slipping on her tiny arms, revealing her freckled kissed skin and the scars adorning her right shoulder. The tunic reached her knees, exposing her short and thin legs with knobby knees. He forced himself to take his eyes off her and answer the question. "Comfortable."

She spun on one heel, and he found himself dumbstruck by her beauty. Even in simple clothing, she still charmed him. What a fool he was, thinking nothing in this world could capture his attention.

"I actually feel really comfortable. No wonder you're wearing this all the time."

"I do not wear my sleeping tunics at day time, Vhenan."

She giggled, beaming at him. "Are you sure about that? They look the same."

With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing how much she loved to tease his clothing choices. "Yes, I am sure."

She stuck her tongue out at him over her shoulder as she made her way towards the bed. He shook his head at her, amused by her behaviour, but his eyes lingered on her hips, delighted by their shape. He gritted his teeth in annoyance at his nagging need to touch her body.

The worn-out bed-springs creaked under Elluin's weight as she lay in it, a sight of comfort slipping her lips.

"Are you coming?" she asked him, eyes closed, pulling the blanket close to her chin.

"In a second," he answered, taking off his shirt, neatly folding it to place it above her clothes. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head, his joins popping loudly. Elluin lazily opened her eyes at the noise, only to snap them wide open at the sight of Solas' bare torso. Pride washed over him, noticing the shy blush tingeing her cheeks pink, content he could still impress a woman with his physique . "Is it bothering you? If it does, I can--"

"No, no, it's fine," she stammered, shaking her head. "I forgot you like to sleep shirtless. Make yourself comfortable. I don't mind it."

The bed protested again as Solas joined her under the blanket. He pulled her close, her back resting against his chest, his arms wrapping around her tummy. She giggled when he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Good night, Solas."

"Good night. I will search for you in the Fade."

She hummed in agreement, reaching for his hands and intertwining her fingers with his. He watched her as she slowly drifted into sleep, her chest rising and falling as she inhaled and exhaled, the soft sound of her breath lulling him to sleep, to embrace the calling of the Fade.

"Solas?" she whispered in the darkness a few minutes later, startling him.

"Hmmm?"

"I love you."

With eyes widened in surprise, he opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, his breath catching in his throat. When he spoke again, his voice quivered. "I love you too, Elluin."

He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent, the perfume of the lily of the valley salve she used to tame the curls of her hair, overwhelming his senses. It was the scent of love and acceptance. It gave him hope that maybe, maybe, this world he used to hate could be his new home. Their home.


End file.
